The Beginning of the End
by Samh1212
Summary: "When I awoke again I was alone in my bedroom, my body still tense with the ache of being unsatisfied, my declaration of love for Peeta still lingering on my lips." Post Mockingjay Pre Epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

The Beginning of the End

Katniss POV

Chapter 1

The days and weeks began to pass since I was delivered home from the Capitol, each seemingly more slowly than one before it. At first I couldn't bare getting out of bed. My hair hung in greasy oily clumps against my scalp and shoulders; my skin itched and stung both from neglect and from healing. My bones protruded harshly through my flesh, stretched taunt from malnourishment, but I honestly wasn't trying to torture myself, I just didn't feel the hunger anymore.

Each day I would wake up and in my bed with the sun streaming brightly through the windows, push my mind way from the nightmare that ravaged my mind and wrecked my spirit during the night, wishing for nothing more than a few extra hours of peace in the darkness. Eventually, I would pull myself up and walk down the stairs to the front of the house, climb onto a chair and sit wrapped in an old blanket of Prim's looking at nothing until the sun set again. It took weeks; maybe months for me to realize that someone had been coming in and out of the house picking up after me and making sure there was bread to eat and water to drink if I could remind myself to do so.

The first time I remember feeling anything again was in a dream. Usually, the night was a time for anything but rest, but that night was different. I went to bed in the same clothes I had been wearing since I was deposited back in District 12, my senses too dull to notice the filth, my mind too numb to care. But, the moon that night was large and the air that swirled in through my bedroom window was warm. A sweet, almost salty smell tickled my nose as I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes. Something, some memory from not so long ago was begging to resurface, a familiar ache making itself known.

I awoke in a place where the air was thick and moist and the heat surrounded me. I opened my eyes fully, blinking in the brightness of the moon; the same moon that hung over my bedroom window before I had fallen asleep. I sat up feeling the sand between my toes and fingers. Maneuvering my body to the side I realized I was not alone. Peeta was lying next to me in the sand, his body curled into himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his frame. I knew then that I was dreaming, and that strange feeling over took me where you know what surrounds you isn't actually happening, yet it's just as real as breathing. I was back in the arena of the Quarter Quell, and although it may seem strange, I felt oddly content. Knowing that nothing that I saw around me was true gave me a sense of freedom that I hadn't experienced since the reaping day two years before. I watched Peeta as his body filled and deflated with each breath he took. I let my fingers trail over the palm of his hand, up his arm and over tight muscles of his shoulder and neck, then resting against his chest, right atop his heart. I staying like that for a long time, feeling the pulse under my hand as the blood rushed through his veins. With each beat of his heart, I started to live again, the cold gray mass buried deep inside my chest began to thaw. I slid my fingers slowly up again, lingering for a second on the strong line of his jaw, and then running my thumb along the full pout of his lower lip. The pace of his breath sped up, coming in quick warm puffs against my hand. His body stirred beside me, his eyes fluttering open.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" he asked, immediately alert. Oh, how I have missed the sound of his voice.

"Shh," I whispered, placing my finger against his mouth. "Nothing's wrong."

"Then come here," he murmured, rolling toward me and opening his arms. I lay down with him, my cheek flush against his chest and listened to the rhythmic sound of his breathing. Then before I could think my way out of it, I pressed my lips against the hallow of his neck, allowing myself to taste the salt on his skin. I felt him shudder beneath me as goose bumps prickled his flesh.

"Katniss, what are you doing?" Peeta questioned, running his fingers through my hair and then settling his hand on the small of my back.

"What I should have done a long time ago."

I kissed him again, this time on the edge of his jaw then I pressed my mouth fully on his. This surely wasn't our first kiss, or our second, or our third, but this time I wasn't going to pull away. This time I didn't have to perform for anyone except him.

Peeta opened his mouth slightly then, sliding his tongue against mine and I allow it. His hands move from the small of my back to my hips, grasping me firmly on each side. I move my right leg over his body until I'm hovering above him, straddling him. His face rises up to meet me, as he takes control of the kiss, deepening it. I run my hands down the length of his body lingering briefly on his chest, then his stomach, then cautiously, I dip my fingers into what is what is left of his under garments. For the first time, I feel how much he wants me bulging against my hand.

"Oh, god, Katniss," he moans against my mouth as his pelvis begans rocking beneath me.

I wrap my fingers around his length and move my hand gentle up and down as he continues to rock his hips in tandem with my movements. Each time me move together, I feel an ache growing inside me. Peeta's fingers climb up my body, stopping at the hem of my shirt, he tugs it upward, and I release my grip on him to raise my hands over my head as he pulls the fabric from my body, seeing me completely for the time. He kisses down my jaw and below my ear, then explores my chest with his mouth for the first time as our bodies continue moving against each other until a thin line of sweat covers us causing our skin to slide in a delicious way.

Slowly his mouth inches its way back up body until his mouth is on mine again. "Peeta, touch me, please," I say against his mouth and his hand finds its way between us, his fingers slipping inside me, his thumb moving in small circular motions.

I arch my back and pull his chest up against mine as I can feel the tension in my body building and his hips move furiously against me.

"Peeta, I love you," I say before I can stop myself and his movement below me cease.

"What did you say?" he asks, his blues locking onto mine, his hands sliding up to grasp both side of my face.

"I love you," I say again, but before he can respond he is ripped away from me into a spiral of darkness. Everything around me starts to spin until my head throbs and my eyes cross, so I squeeze them shut.

When I open them again, I am alone in my bedroom, the sun coming in brightly through the window, my body drenched in sweat, the fierce ache of being unsatisfied gripping me tightly, my declaration of love for Peeta still lingering on my lips.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I eagerly emerge from bed and walking into the bathroom stripping off my clothes. I shower slowly and thoroughly, and then dress in a fresh outfit. Down stairs, I take the time to down a glass of water and eat one of the cheese buns resting on the kitchen counter before going outside and walking three doors down.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Peeta

It's early in the morning when I see her come out her front door and start to walk in my direction. It wasn't the first time I had seen her since arriving home, but it was the first time I had seen her awake and alive, her body moving with swiftness, with direction. In my direction. My heart began to pick up pace, thudding ferociously against my rib cage. The thoughts in my head suddenly jumbled and I shake away the flash of a memory that I was almost sure wasn't real, then tried to look normal as I continued to plunge my shovel into the earth and discard the excess behind me.

I hadn't wanted to see her when I first got back home, but I knew she was there, like a moth seeking a flame, I was drawn to her heat. I would see her pass by her bedroom window each morning; sit in the front room each night wrapped in a blanket that I'm sure had some significance to someone she loved. Someone that wasn't me.

I didn't hate her. I didn't know her, and least I didn't know the truth. Not all of it. She had tried, a little during the war to help me separate the truth from the lies, but so many pieces were still missing or faded. Still, I couldn't deny the fact that I loved her; even if I didn't remember all the reasons why. I waited for weeks thinking she would come to me eventually, that we would talk it out, spend time together. Be friends again. But days turned into weeks, and weeks into months and never a word. I never even saw her leave the house to hunt.

When I thought I could stand the silent treatment no longer, I decided to pay Haymitch a visit; get some perspective. I knew he had been to see her, at least a few times, and though it made me feel weak to ask, I needed answers.

"What are you doing here, boy?" Haymitch mumbled as I took a seat across from him at his kitchen table, the one piece of decent furniture in his house.

"I need your advice," I responded, looking down at the lines weaving through the grains of wood, my hands interlocking over the table's top.

"Again?"

"Yes. I don't know what to do about Katniss," I confided. "I'm at a loss."

Haymitch put the bottle of white liquor that was positioned between us up to his lips and took a long draw.

"Have you seen her?"

"Yes,..well no, not really. Only through the window. We haven't spoken," I answered keeping my voice low and refusing to meet his eye. Honestly, I was embarrassed about my behavior and my pride.

"Well, I have, and she's not well. Honestly, I thought it was much more likely to have you returned in that condition instead of her." He took another pull from the bottle.

"You really want my advice?"

"Please."

"Decide now. Are you ready to put up with all the shit she could throw at you? Everything she could hold against you? Things you know you didn't do; and others you don't remember?"

I closed my eyes and pictured her face. Her wide gray eyes, her dark hair loose and falling around her face. The way her bottom lip was just slightly fuller than her top, they way I felt the last time her hand grazed mine. That small memory was enough to send a shudder down mine spine.

I nodded my head. "I'm ready."

"Then get the hell out of here and go to her."

I stood up then, without another word and crossed the small patch of dirt between his house and hers. I climbed the few stairs up to the door and cursed myself for being nervous. Raising my hand, I knocked lightly on the door at first, then harder when I got no response, but she still didn't come. Unsure if it was the right thing to do, but worried if I turned back now I would never talk myself into it again, I turned the knob slowly and the door popped open.

"Katniss?" I called out into the dark emptiness of the house. The sun had set, but I didn't think it was late enough for her to already be asleep.

"Katniss?" I called out again, but I didn't hear a sound in reply.

Knowing it would probably make her angry, I continued into the house, carefully to keep my footsteps light, however that was not my strong suite. The kitchen was bare and empty as if it hadn't been used in month. I thin line of dust covered nearly ever surface. After noticing nothing out of place, no mess no sign of use at all on the first floor, I made my way to the stairs. My heart pounded in my chest, a thin line of sweat beaded up on my brow. I knew it was wrong to be in her house without her permission, but I had to know she was alright, especially after speaking to Haymitch.

"Katniss, are you awake? It's me, Peeta." I whispered to no one.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I could finally hear the sound of her breathing drift out in to the hall from her bedroom's open door, and my pulse slowed just a little. Still carefully to keep the tread of my footsteps light, I walked to the frame of her door.

My heart dropped when I saw her face, I felt ill and had to cling to the wall to keep from slipping to the ground. It was all I could do not to cry out, to run to her, lift her up and cradle her in my arms. How could have let this much time pass without checking on her? What was wrong with me?

Katniss took a ragged breath and I surveyed her body, from the top of her head down below her chest where the bedcover made it impossible to see anymore. Her face was hallow and covered with dark shadows, her clips cracked and dry, nearly to the point of bleeding. I winced as I counted the number of bones protruding through in stretched, shiny skin. The long waves of dark hair that I remember so well stuck to her skin, thick with dirt and residue. I imagined that the parts of her I couldn't see weren't in any better condition.

I took three more steps inside the room, moving until my knees rested gently on the edge of her bed frame. With a feather's touch, I ran the tip of my finger across her cheek and down the line of her jaw. She exhaled suddenly then, and I froze in place. Her breathing picked up pace and I watched as her shoulders began to tremble. She rolled from her back to her side, but never woke. I leaned over her slightly, taking care to not touch my body to hers, she looked so frail, she just might break., and pressed a kiss into her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss." I murmured before turning to go.

Once back down stairs, I took a closer look in the kitchen. It was bare except for some scraps of meat lying loose on the counter. I tried the tap and was relieved that it worked but the water was warm and stale.

Each night after that, I waited until I thought Katniss would be upstairs in bed, then I would return to her house . The first few nights, I crept upstairs to watch her sleeping again, but the sight of her broken body, and the sound of her freighted cries were too much to handle. I baked during the day and left rolls on the kitchen counter. I filled jugs of fresh clean water, then drained and refilled them the next day. I thought maybe she would question it, come outside and asked why I had been in her house and that would be our opportunity to talk again, but she didn't. She did however, seem to be eating the food and drinking the water I left, so I continued to deliver it each night, hoping one day, when she had enough strength, she would come find me.

And here she is, looking as close to the girl in my memories as she ever would again. Still thin, but not sickly, her cheeks no longer gaunt and hallow, the roundness returning to her chest and hips. She looked clean and fresh. Alive. And …is she smiling?

Katniss

I heard the noise before I saw him, the sound of metal hitting the earth as Peeta swung the large shovel he held in his hands, dipping it into the ground removing a mound and then repeating the action. He didn't seem started when he saw me, only surprised. He dug the shovel into the ground beside him again, but this time let it stay standing straight. He propped one arm up against it, and then with the other hand, used to hem of his shirt the wipe the perspiration from his brow. I couldn't help but smile, a faint blush tinting my cheeks when he exposed the bare patch of toned muscle hidden by his tee shirt. A memory from last night's dream flashed before my eyes, my hands on his body and his on mine, the sizzle on my skin when he pressed his lips onto me. I had to clear my throat before speaking.

" Hey," I croaked before looking down at my feet, the sound of my voice foreign to even my own ears , it had been so long since I used it last.

"Hey, yourself," he replied. "I'm glad to see you out of the house. You look …."

He seemed unable to come up with an appropriate word.

"Alive?" I offered.

"I was going to say beautiful ."

I smiled again, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. He was being so receptive. I have no idea what I expected, my decision to come here and see him so rash, but it was not this. The tension in my shoulders started to lift.

"Thank you."

We stood staring at each for a moment, both unsure what to say, until he broke the silence.

"Would you like to come in? For a drink maybe? I could use a break."

I nodded my head in agreement, and followed him into the front door of his house. Inside, my eyes grow wide with all the sights before me. It shouldn't look so different from my house, as they were built to exactly the same modifications, but it is completely different. Peeta has spent his time since returning from the capitol in a much better place than I have. The walls in the front living room are painted a warm orange, the kitchen yellow, but not bright yellow, more like golden honey. The walls are covered with paintings. Some I remember seeing before. Scenes from our first games; Rue and the cave, the Cornicopia, and me. I'm everywhere. Then there are those I don't remember, scenes from the capitol, scenes from the beach, and others that I'm not sure what they are. Broken, scattered images painted with an expert hand, beautiful yet sad and terrifying at the same time.

I look from one painting to another walking all around the first floor of the house, taking in each, one at a time. I knew he was talented, but I had no idea to what extent until now.

I feel his presence behind me and I turn to see his face. He's not looking at the paintings, but he's looking at me, , watching my reaction to what's in his head. There's one painting at the end of the hall that's darker than the rest, and the lines are not sharp, but hazy and muted. It's supposed to be me I'm sure of that, but I don't recognize the look on my face or the anger in my eyes. My bow is raised my arm stretched back, the muscles of my arm lean and taunt. I have an arrow in the string and its tip is painted red. The arrow is pointing to someone in the distance. I step closer to the image, trying to take it all in, and then I gasp when I realize what he's painted. It's me with my arrow pointing at him.

"What's this one?" I ask, keeping my voice light, trying not to offend him, or frighten him. I know there's so many questions that he must have.

"I don't know." He answers simply. "I just paint what's in my head and try to decide if It's real or not. It's what I've been doing to help myself remember. And forget. "

"Peeta," I say turning to face him again. "I should have done more for you. I should have been here, but I couldn't . I'm sorry."

I take a step closer to him and reach out to take his hand in mine, and he lets me. I link our fingers together and for a moment we stand together staring at the image of me in front of us.

"It's not real." I whisper, and rub the back of his hand with my thumb.

"I know that now. But I couldn't get it out of my mind until I painted it." He replies, squeezing hand in his. "How about that drink now?"

We sit at his kitchen table across from each other drinking some kind of tea that I don't remember having before and nibbling a plate of cheese and breads he sat between us. As I bite into the warmth of the fresh baked roll, I suddenly remember what I had eaten for breakfast, and probably every day before that. Food that always seemed to be there, but I had done nothing to get it.

"You've been bringing me bread, haven't you?" I ask, popping another bite into my mouth.

"Yes, and water too. You're not mad are you?" He pushes the wavy blond locks of his face with his free hand and looks me straight in the eye, his expression tense with worry.

"Did we talk at all?"

"No, but I do have to confess, I watched you sleep a few times." He says sheepishly, a redness creeping up his neck and into his face.

"Of course I'm not mad. I'm sorry I didn't notice. I was in a bad place, but I think I'm better now. Or getting there."

I smile at him, and he brings our joined hands up to his lips and kisses the inside of my wrist.

"I'm glad. I've missed you, but you've always been, in my dreams."

"And in your nightmares." I mutter, and instantly regret it. "I've dreamt about you too." I add, trying to make up for my previous statement.

"Really?" He asks seeming thrilled at the thought. "Was it good or bad?"

"Mostly good." I reply, closing my eyes as another image of me on top of his body pops into my mind. My mouth goes dry when I think about the way it felt when he moved beneath me, the slickness of his skin against mine. I take another drink of tea, and hope he doesn't notice me hands shaking.

We sit like that for while, just happy to be in each other's company, but I grow restless and I feel useless, all the things I want to say to him, refusing to come out of my mouth. I've always been better with actions than words, so after he cleans the glasses and the plate from the table, I stand and push my chair in.

"Peeta, would you come somewhere with me today?"

"Of course." He answers without hesitation.

"Okay, great. You may want to change, though." I tell him noticing his bare feet, and his dirty pants.

"You're not taking me hunting, are you?"

"No." I laugh at the thought.

After Peeta's changed and he packs a bag filled with a water jugs and fruit, I lead him away from the Victor's Village, and back through town square, through the areas of the Seam, and then to old District 12 boundaries, but the electric fence no longer stands.

"Will you tell me where we're going?" he asks, as I continue further into the woods.

"Don't worry, I think you'll like it."

We continue on for over an hour into the woods, and through a small quarry of rough and jagged rocks. Peeta does well, following me in which ever direction I say, and doing his best to keep up, but by the time we make it to the lake we are both drenched in sweat. Our clothes cling to our bodies, and I'm exhausted after not using my muscles in so long. We sit along the water's edge looking out at the beauty of the water before us.

"It's great here, Katniss," He tells me inching his body closer to mine. "Have you brought me here before?'

"No, this is the first time."

"Good. I would have hated it if I forgot about this."

"My dad used to bring me here when I was little. This place holds good memories for me."

I slide over, closing the gap of space between us, not content until my hip is pressed against his. He wraps my arms around my waist, and I sigh, leaning my head into the crook of his neck.

"I want to be a good memory for you Peeta."

He pulls me closer against him and brushes a kiss against my temple. "You are."

My blood starts to heat up in my veins, the familiar ache from last night's dream makes itself known.

"Will you come into the water with me?" I ask pulling myself out of his arms.

"Sure, but I don't think I'm a good swimmer."

"I tried to teach you before, I can teach you again." I tell him, standing up and lifting my shirt over my head.

"Katniss! What are you doing?" he asks, stunned.

"I'm going in the water, and I want dry clothes to wear when I get out." I answer, unbuttoning my pants and sliding them over my hips and down my legs.

"Come on, you can swim in your clothes if you want, but trust me, you'll regret it on the walk home."

Peeta stands and removes his shirt reluctantly, keeping his eyes fixed on me.

"Besides, I thought nudity didn't bother you?" I ask as he flings his shirt to the ground and steps out of his shoes.

"It doesn't."

"And we're both wearing under clothes, anyway."

Peeta takes a deep breath and blows it out through his mouth, his lips turning up and the corners.

"See, that's the thing, Katniss, I'm not," he says slowly, as if he was afraid I wouldn't understand.

"Oh, that's okay." I tell him. "I won't look."

I turn my back to him and I hear the fabric of his trousers hit the ground. I can't suppress the shiver that runs down my spine.

"You're sure you're okay with this?"

"I'm sure."

"Then, I'm ready. " He whispers into my ear.

I jump slightly at his closeness, but he slips his hand into mine from behind. We trudge slowly down the bank and splash into water. The lake is colder than I expect, but it's a welcome contrast to the day's heat. I continue on ahead of Peeta, his hand still in mine, until the water is a little higher than waist deep, then I turn around.

He lets go of my hand and leans back in the water just far enough to let the water cover his hair, and then he springs back up, his hair drenched, droplets glistening on his skin.

"This feels amazing," he beams, sinking down lower in the water. I watch him paddle around me for a few minutes , before I undo my braid and lean back in the water, floating on my back, the sun hitting my face and warming my skin where the water cooled it.

Soon, Peeta is hovering over me, watching me.

"Do you have any idea how long I have waited to see you like this?" He asks me, bending so that his face is just inches from mine.

"Like what?"

"Happy, Katniss. You look happy. I can't imagine a better feeling than seeing you this way."

"I can."

"What do you mean?" He asks, his voice soft and low. His breath tickling my neck.

"This."

I raise my hand and wrap my fingers lightly around the back of his neck, running my fingers through the hair at the base of his neck; I pull his face down and press my lips to his. His eyes are wide, crystal blue as he stares into mine. I move my lips his again, and he begins to reciprocate. His hands find my shoulders in the water and shift me up until I'm standing in front of him, but our mouths never part.

I run my hands down his neck again and across his shoulder blades, down his back and stop, resting them on his hips. He kisses down my jaw and neck, and atop my collar bone.

"Peeta…." I sigh into his chest, and pull his body closer to mine. Suddenly, I am reminded that of his lack of clothing when I feel him press against my lower stomach.

"I'm sorry," he says and starts to pull away.

"I'm not," I say against his chest, and move one hand off his hip, until I'm touching him under the water.

He leans his forehead against mine, and put his hand on mine under the water. "You don't have to, …we don't have to," He says, his voice ragged.

"I want to. I want to be with you, Peeta."

He kisses my forehead again as I lead him out of the water and up to bank where our clothes are piled. We both kneel on the spread out fabric and I let him remove the dripping camisole that I'm wearing. I can't stand it that his body is so far away from mine, so I lay back and pull him down to me. I kiss him again and again as he starts to move against me. Nothing is separating us but the thin fabric of my underwear. His hands slide down my body and he hooks his thumbs into the material, and pulls them down and off, tossing them aside. Now propping himself up on one elbow, he positions himself between my legs.

"You're sure?" he asks again, and shake my head yes.

"Please," I all but beg, and pull his mouth to mine again.

He rocks into me slowly at first, and I bite my lip as he moves back and rocks into me again. It hurts a little, but as he continues to move, the pain melts away and is replaced by a delicious burning that continues to build as he pushes inside me.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmurs against my neck. "How long I've wanted you."

He picks up the pace, moving more quickly and I raise my hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

"Katniss, I need to…I'm going to." He says, looking into my eyes.

"Don't stop, please," I say and wrap my legs tighter around him.

He rocks into me again and my body shudders around him.

"Katniss," he moans, and with one final movement, I feel him spasm inside me.

We both fall back against the he pile of our clothes, and he drapes an arm around my middle. Rolling to my side, I turn so we are face to face. I graze him cheek with the tip of my finger, than I touch his bottom lip, and his chin. He tucks both arms around me and pulls me into him.

"I love you." I tell him, and I know that I do.

"Really?" he questions, he voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, really."

"I love you too."

We stay like that for a while, but before the sun starts to set, I urge him to get up and get dressed. The walk back through the woods is long, but we are happy to be together. We make our way back through to the Victor's Village just as the dark settles upon us. I hold his hand tightly as his house comes into view. I don't want to leave him. I don't want to be alone again.

I think he can sense my apprehension and he begins rubbing circles into the back of my hand with his thumb.

"Katniss?" He asks, just before I let go. "Will you stay with here with me?"

"Always." I reply, and follow him into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Peeta

I wake up slowly, my body stiff and sore from yesterday's excursion. I stretch out my arm, seeking her warmth, but my fingers find nothing but cool sheets. Rolling over, I open my eyes to find that I am in bed alone. Katniss is gone. I smack my face with the palm of my hand and lay back flat on my back staring at the ceiling. Guilt washes over me, consuming me. I knew it was too good to be true. Even as it was happening, I could hear a voice in the back of my mind telling me not to believe her, not to get lost in her touch. I should have been more responsible and not take advantage of her in that way, but it didn't seem as if I was taking advantage. She said she wanted me, that she loved me.

I throw off the sheets and swing my legs over the side of the bed, finding my pants from the day before in a clump on the floor. I put them on and then pick up yesterday's shirt pulling it over my head. As the cotton drapes over my face, I inhale. It still smells like her. In the bathroom, I turn on the faucet and splash cold water on my face before looking at my reflection in the mirror. My skin is slightly pink from the time spent in the sun. Looking closer, I see a small purplish bruise at the base of my neck, another on my shoulder. I touch the marks on my skin with the tip of my finger, glad for the reminder of our time together. I take hold of the sink's edge with both hands, and hang my head, grief making it hard to stand.

Beside me, I hear a splash of water and I nearly jump out of my skin. I open my eyes and look to the bath tub at my left. Katniss is there, leaning over the side, her chin propped up in her hand. Her hair is twisted up into a bun on top of her head and she's watching me.

"Good morning," She says, her voice calm, collected.

"God, Katniss!" I reply, kneeling beside the tub. "I thought you left."

She lifts up slightly and kisses me on the nose. "Why would I do that?"

I lean my forehead against hers and with one wet hand, she caresses my cheek, "I thought you changed your mind about what happened yesterday. Maybe you didn't…."

She put her finger against my lips. "I thought, I told you? I wanted you. I love you. And actually, I want you again right now."

Katniss stands up quickly, water splashing out of the tub and onto the floor from her sudden movement. I pick up the towel she had laid out on my small dressing table and wrap it around her shoulders and back, patting gently to remove the moisture on her skin. She steps out of the tub and presses her naked chest against mine, leaving an impression of her on my shirt.

Her hands trail between the hem of my shirt and the waistband of my pants as she pops open the clasp and slips her hand inside. I shudder at her touch and move forward quickly, pressing her against the wall. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my shirt over my head.

Our movements are more ferocious this time as I lift her hips slightly and she hooks her legs around my waist, my stiffness pressing against her middle. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck softly as she moans my name into my neck. Moving my mouth to her other breast, I remove one hand from her hip, keeping her back firmly on the wall, and slip my hand between us. I push two fingers into her wetness and rub her bundle of nerves with my thumb until she bucks against my hand.

"Take me to the bed," she demands, her breath hot and heavy against my skin.

Once back in the bedroom, she pushes me down against the sheets, and I let her take the lead.

She kisses down my chest, letting her tongue trail over the lines of my muscles, until she laughs suddenly against my hip.

I raise my head slightly, and look into her cool gray eyes. "You have a freckle there," she giggles. "I never noticed." Then she returns her mouth to my skin.

I shudder and my eyes roll back into my head as she takes me fully into her mouth, switching between licking and sucking. I feel myself start to lose control as I cling to the sheets to keep from moving against her mouth.

Just as the tension gets to be too much I reach down and stroke her face with my hand. "Come here, " I tell her and she does.

I pull her mouth to me as she positions her legs on either side of mine. With my hands holding her hips I lift her up just enough to push inside, and then I pull her back down against me. Her warms surrounds me and I feel her muscles tighten as I continue lifting her hips and pulling her down until takes control of my the action. She moves faster and fast on top of me, our slick skin sliding against one another until she clenches around me.

"Peeta," she moans, dragging her finger nails down my chest.

I lift her hips once more slamming against her me as explode into her.

She collapses into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to me as she settles into my side.

Katniss POV

I let him hold me close enjoying the warmth of his body next to me, listening to the rhythmic sound as he breathes in and out.

"I can't believe you thought I left." I say, sitting up then and removing the pin from my hair, letting it fall down in waves covering my shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he tells me sitting up too and pulling the sheet around us. "I woke up and the bed was empty. I know you get uncomfortable dealing with…emotions."

He looks at my face to check my reaction. What he said was true, I'm not very good at saying how I feel, but now that I'm feeling again, now that my senses have returned, I'm not going to let them go.

"You're right, in the past, I've been exceptionally bad at that." I agree. "But I've changed and I'm not afraid anymore. I love you."

I slide out of the bed and walk over to his dresser rifling through a couple of drawers until I find one of his long sleeve button up shirts and slip my arms into it, buttoning all but the top two buttons.

"And I'm not leaving."

Peeta climbs out of bed and bed and walks toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I believe you," he laughs and kisses my hair, but the glint in his eye tells me he's still not sure. I don't blame I don't blame for doubting me, but he'll see eventually. I plan to spend the rest of my life proving it to him, making up for the ways I've failed in the past.

"I'm going to take a quick shower and then I'll make you breakfast," he adds before stalking back into the bathroom.

The pipes wheeze as the shower kicks on in the next room and I sit down at Peeta's desk to wait. I look around at his room for the first time, as it was too dark last night when we crawled into bed. There are piles of papers lying on every surface; some with pictures outlined with pencil, some in chalk, some in paint, but it's not messy, more like orderly chaos. The walls of the room are painted a deep cool gray, a stark contrast from the warm colors of the rest of the house, the ones that he seems to like most. It almost makes the room feel cold, even with the warm air of yesterday returning as the sun climbs higher in the sky. I also notice that unlike the first floor and hallway the walls here are not cluttered with his art work.

The pipes wheeze again as the shower turns off and it's only a moment Peeta returns, a towel tied loosely over his hips. I watch as he pulls a blue shirt over his head and steps into a clean pair of jeans, again not bothering to put on any underwear. I smile to myself and wonder if he even owns any. I make a mental note to pay better attention the next time I go through his clothes.

"Are you hungry yet? " He asks, as we walk downstairs and make our way into the kitchen.

"Yes, starved." I tell him as I sit down at one of the stools tucked under the counter.

He takes several items out of the pantry, sitting them before me and offering to make me a variety of things. I decide on eggs and fruit, and I watch him as he gets out everything he needs, organizing the items before placing a pan on the stove.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, hoping as he cracks the eggs into the pan.

"Anything." He smiles, and stirs the liquid with a spatula.

"Why did you paint your room gray? It's so different from the rest of the house, it doesn't seem like it matches with what you typically like."

He takes a deep breath before answering, and looks down at the food, keeping his hands busy. A strange reaction to my question about paint colors, I think.

"Because it's the color of your eyes," he whispers softly. "I didn't know if I would ever see them again, and I didn't want to forget how beautiful they are."

"Oh, Peeta." I sigh, and reach for his hand across the tile of the counter.

"What would you have done, if I had never come back to you? If I had sat in the house forever, a catatonic lump doing nothing the taking up space, would you have kept on loving me, bring me food and taking care of me when I was too stupid to notice?"

"First," he tells me, his voice sterner than I have ever heard it, "you were not too stupid. You have been through a lot, Katniss, and you needed time."

He reaches across the counter and lifts my chin up until I have no choice but to look directly into his eyes. "And second, yes, I probably would have taken care of you forever. That's what I was put here to do ,Katniss, To take care of you. I'm not good for at anything else."

"You're good at everything." I tell him, knowing that there is no way I could ever love him enough.

"Not hunting," he says with a laugh.

"Okay. Everything except for hunting."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to those that read, reviewed or followed this story! This was my first experience writing a piece so heavily based on the romantic details. I hope you enjoy the ending. I have another Kantiss/Peeta idea in the works. Look for it soon!**

Chapter 4-

Katniss POV

After a few days of staying at Peeta's, only leaving the bedroom for brief period of time to eat or to shower, I decided I needed to stop by home. I needed to get some fresh clothes and to gather the few items that held importance to me. The decision to move to Peeta's permanently was not really a decision at all. We had come to the point in our relationship, even only after a few days, that being apart would be a ridiculous notion.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Peeta asked, as I stood at the door, half of my body still lingering inside.

"No, I'll be fine. It won't take long." I promised, lifting up on my tiptoes to kiss his chin before pulling the door closed behind me.

I walked inside my former home, and already I felt the disconnect. It was cold, and empty and bare. I felt none of the security I enjoyed at Peeta's. Not only did I have his arms around me, but the whole house; the colors, the smells, the textures wrapped me tightly, holding me together. Here, everywhere I looked I saw Prim's face staring back at me. Not the sweet child I wanted so desperately to remember, but the girl she became, the girl so immersed in the pain of other's that she lost her life trying to save them. Thinking of Prim's death immediately brought the image of my former best friend to mind. I hadn't thought about Gale since returning home. It is true that he would always hold a place of great importance in my life. He was the first person that allowed me to completely be myself and loved me for it. However, I would never get past the role he played in the bombing that killed my sister. Knowing it wasn't his fault or his intentions did little to stifle my pain.

I stalked through the rooms quickly, picking up first Prim's blanket, then my father's hunting jacket and shoving them into my old worn out bag. Upstairs in my room, I food the book of plants my father had started so long ago and then Peeta and I had continued together. In the room that had been my mother's, I looked around for something of hers that held sentimental value, finding little. After pawing carelessly through her closet, I pull out a white dress, knowing by the fabric and the details she must have had it since the days before her marriage to my father. The days before she gave up her life as a merchant's daughter to come live in the Seam. The things we do for love.

I grabbed a few other items of clothing, bundling them in my arms before walking back toward the door. Just as I was about to step off the porch, something white lying on the bottom step caught my eye. An envelope sat perched perfect between the last two steps, my name written boldly on the outside in large black letters. Ms. Katniss Everdeen.

My heart began to thump loudly in my chest. Who could have possibly left this for me? I looked from side to side, my head moving in frantic motions, my muscles immediately tense from the increased adrenaline. I had just left Peeta, and surely if Haymitch had something he wanted to say, he knew where he could find me. I probably should visit him, I thought to myself, before bending down to pick up the offending square of parchment and shoving it into my bag.

Back home at Peeta's, I tried not to let on that something was bothering me. We went upstairs and he cleared a few drawers to give me space to store my clothes, and I hung my mother's dress in the closet. Then we sat down together to look at the book of drawings that we had worked on together not so long ago. When we came a across a drawing my father had made of Primrose bushes, a tear dropped from my eye, splattering against the page. Peeta took my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist.

"You know, you never asked me what I was doing outside, digging those hole in the ground," he murmured sweetly against my skin.

"What were you doing?" I asked, not even thinking of the action until now.

"I was thinking that it might be nice to plant a few of these bushes," he said pointing to the picture again. "Would you like that? To have something to remember her by?"

"I would like that. Thank you."

We looked through a few more pages together and then Peeta decided to make us something for lunch. He prepared a lovely spread, but even though I was hungry, I was having a hard time making myself eat.

"Is anything else the matter?" he asked, after watching me break my bread into tiny bits and scatter them around my plate.

"No. Well…yes. Maybe," I confided. "When I went home earlier there was a letter sitting outside my door."

"A letter? What kind of letter? Who was it from?"

"I don't know. I didn't open it."

"Are you going to?" he questioned.

"Should I? It can't possibly be anything good." I didn't want any more heartbreak. I was done with that part of my life.

"It's your letter. So it's completely up to you," he insisted, "but if it were mine, I would want to know what was inside."

"You've convinced me," I say squeezing his shoulder before going to my bag and retrieving the envelope.

I sat it on the table between us and we both just stared at it for several minutes, as if it were a snake about to strike.

Finally, Peeta's curiosity got the better of him. "Well, go on," he insisted. "Open it."

I held the thick white parchment in my hand for another few seconds trying to get any hint of who the sender might be, but I didn't recognize the script, and it held no other clues. Sticking my finger underneath the seal, I ripped it open and pulled out two folded sheets of paper. I read each line slowly, and then read them again as sat beside me, his eyes wide with either fear or anxiousness, or possibly a little of both.

Once I was completely sure I understood the words, I exhaled, relaxing. "It's from Gale."

"Oh. That's—nice," Peeta said, a little line v forming in the center of his forehead. "How is he?"

"Quite well, actually. He's written to tell me that he's getting married in the fall. To a girl he's met in District two."

Peeta's face smoothed, erasing any trace of emotion. "And does that upset you?"

"No. Not at all."

I tuck the pieces of paper back into the little envelope and place the package on the counter, and finally take a few bites of my meal that's now cold. I'm not sure how Peeta expected me to react to the news of Gale's impending wedding, but he's watching me closely, his eyes never leaving my face as I continue to eat.

After lunch is cleaned up, we decide to walk into town and get the bulbs to plant for Prim's garden, and then we set out at the task together. Peeta, working on the holes that he had started a few days before, and me following behind, dropping in the bulbs and covering them the mounds of loose earth. When we are both satisfied, I stand and stretch out my stiff muscles and wipe a line of dirt that has accumulated on Peeta's cheek. He grabs both of my wrists and wraps them around him, locking our bodies together furiously. I tuck my head under his chin and breathe in his scent.

"What are your feelings about marriage?" Peeta asks me suddenly, his tone edging towards serious. "And I don't mean pretend ones, designed by the Capitol and intended to torture you for the rest of your life."

I take a deep breath, close my eyes and then blow it out through my nose. I remember the swirl of emotions that gripped me when Haymitch told me I would have to spend the rest of my life with Peeta, no matter how I felt about it. _You could do worse_. His words resound in my ears.

"I never thought I would get married. I never wanted to do anything that resulted in children. I couldn't stand the thought of sending any child I would have into the games."

Peeta kisses the tender spot between my ear and my chin. "It's a little late for not doing anything that could result in children."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," I reply, "but you're right. And you know what, things change. I can't imagine not being with you forever."

Peeta takes my hand and leads me over to the front steps of the house that is now ours. "What about you ?" I ask, "Other than our previous arrangement, did you ever think you would get married?"

" I thought I might," he responds with a smile. "But I never imagined I would be so lucky as to marry you."

"Who says you are?" I ask jokingly. "You haven't asked me a very important question."

Peeta says nothing, so I think of another question, one I have wanted to ask him for a while. 'What else would you have wanted to do? If you could do anything at all?"

"Hmm," He says running a hand through his chair and then rubbing the tip of his chin. "Other than being right here with you, I think I might like to reopen the bakery, in a different location of course. But besides the constant nagging of my mother, I enjoyed working there. It wasn't a bad way to pass the time."

"Then you should. You should do it, Peeta. I'll help you."

"You'll help me bake?" He questions, his eyebrow arching with disbelief.

Alright, so I'm not the best cook.

"No, not help with the baking," I reply, nudging his side with my elbow. "But I'll help you find a place, and get it set up if that's something you want to do."

"Ok, let's do it," he says kissing me on the top of my head. "I'm going inside. I need a shower before dinner."

The rest of the evening passes, and Peeta still doesn't comment on my statement about marriage; I start to regret my flippant remark. I wasn't trying to make light of our relationship, I love him and he loves me. We have decided to be to together, and it seemed like the obvious next step, but of course I had to put my foot in my mouth. Again. One day, I will learn to better control the words that come out of my mouth. Hopefully.

I crawl into bed and roll over, placing my back to Peeta. He is not having the distance I try to put between us, and he holds me beneath the cover; his hand slipping underneath my nightshirt and his thumb stroking the soft skin of my stomach.

"What's wrong with you tonight?" he whispers into my hair, his breath warm on the back of my neck. "Did I say something to upset you?"

"No. You didn't say anything," I tell him, trying to hide my disappointment, but failing miserably.

"Katniss, I can tell when something is bothering you. Just tell me, what is it?"

"Nothing. Just drop it okay? I'm fine," I answer, still refusing to turn towards him.

Determined to get the information out of me, Peeta moves his hand and presses on my hip until I am forced to turn my body to him. " Just tell me, what did I do? I'm not letting you sleep until you tell me."

I can't see him face clearly, there is no moon tonight and the room is close to pitch black, but I can feel him smile against my shoulder.

"Fine," I say not nearly as amused as he seems to be, "I thought when I said something about marriage…," I took a deep breath and then swallowed my hesitation, "..I thought you might ask me."

"Ask you what?"

"Peeta! This isn't funny. I thought you would ask me to marry you."

"And is that what you want?"

"Of course it is. You know it is." I tell him, my voice thick with emotion.

"But I can wait until you're ready."

Peeta slides his hands up until he is grasping my face on both sides. "Katniss Everdeen. Don't be ridiculous. I've had to hold myself back from asking you every day since you came back to me."

"Then why? Why didn't you ask me?"

His still held my face tightly in his grasp. "I didn't want to ask you at the same time you found out about Gale. I want it to be about just us when I ask you. Just you and me. No one else."

"It is just us. It's always been just us."

Suddenly his lips find mine in the darkness. His kisses me with a passion so intense I have to bite my lips to keep from crying out. Tonight is not about want and desire, it is about need, and I need him inside of me. We both pull clothes from each other and kick off the sheets that are now tangled between us. He positions himself above he and I slide my arms down and grasp him from behind, forcing him inside me. We both move together furiously, slamming into each other until my body trembles beneath him. With one final movement he calls out my name so loudly I cover his mouth with my hand, although there is no one around us to hear, and then he collapses against me.

We lay together, basking in the bliss of our love as I gently trace way down his spine with my finger.

"Can I ask you something?" he says into the darkness.

"Of course," I respond immensely glad he could see the way I was grinning in the darkness.

Peeta moves so his chin is resting on my chest. "Katniss Everdeen, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

"Yes," I reply, "A million times yes."

He lifts off me briefly and I hear the sliding of a drawer. He returns to the bed, taking his position next to me again, but now his hand finds mine between us. Quickly, he slides something on my left ring finger.

"What's this?" I asking pushing against his chest so I can turn on the bedside light.

Tears fill my eyes when I look down at the ring he has place on my finger. It's my pearl, the one have gave me on the beach set in a brilliant gold band.

"Peeta, how long have you had this?"

"A while," he answers, pulling me back against him.

"I love you." I say, then fall asleep in his arms.


End file.
